


of cock-tales and back-alleys

by LittleLynn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alley Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fighting As Foreplay, Flirting, Humor, M/M, bossy obi-wan, ex-jedi qui-gon, fuck the code, hedonist qui-gon, not quite crack but its borderline guys, the message of this story is: say not to deathsticks and yes to qui-gon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: Obi-Wan goes into a nightclub looking for the senator's would-be assassin, and instead finds Qui-Gon Jinn, an ex-jedi who famously stormed out of the order back when he was a youngling. Qui-Gon goes into a nightclub because the force told him to, and quickly figures out why.Or: how Qui-Gon Jinn inadvertently saved the galaxy with his dick.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 171





	of cock-tales and back-alleys

**Author's Note:**

> it is very late I am very sleep deprived there will be mistakes but all in all this is a very silly lighthearted fic that was a lot of fun to write, so I hope y'all enjoy it too <3

“Where are you going?” Anakin asked, the sound of the nightclub forcing his padawan to shout a little. Obi-Wan hadn’t been in a nightclub in a very long time, and he was reminded of why. 

“To get a  _ drink _ ,” Obi-Wan replied, giving his best air of ‘just fitting in, my young padawan’ instead of ‘because you can be uniquely exhausting, my young padawan’. Obi-Wan sat down serenely while his padawan skulked about the room, lucky that this particular venue seemed to cater to all sorts of undesirables, or else he would have been terribly obvious. 

“You wanna buy some death sticks?” A voice piped up beside Obi-Wan, reedy and unpleasant. 

“You don’t want to tell me death sticks,” Obi-Wan sighed, resting his face chin on his hand as he tried to signal the bartender.

“I don't want to sell you death sticks,” the dealer agreed.

“You want to go home and rethink your life,” Obi-Wan kept the sarcasm out of his voice by a hair's breadth, knowing that it sometimes ruined the suggestion. 

“I want to go home, and rethink my life.”

Obi-Wan focuses more heavily on the bartender, wondering if he could summon him by sheer force of will alone, when a deep chuckle sounded beside him and a drink was placed next to his hand, as someone  _ far _ more agreeable than the death sticks dealer. He would be far more agreeable than just about anyone, in Obi-Wan’s personal opinion, and left him chanting the code in his head to avoid getting caught on any one of the many features that had Obi-Wan contemplating acts that were entirely against the council and their code. 

“Force suggestion? Very impressive,” the stranger said; the tall stranger; the tall handsome stranger; the tall handsome stranger with hair that Obi-Wan wanted to pull and a body that he wanted to wrap himself around and a face that he wanted to sit on. Which he would admit, wasn’t very jedi-like, and that he should probably stop reading those raunchy holo-novels he loved so much; they were giving him too many ideas. 

“Know about those, do you?” Obi-Wan asked with a raised eyebrow, doing his best to keep his cool, hoping that wherever he was, Anakin wasn’t getting into trouble, vaguely aware that he was supposed to be looking out for an assassin. 

“We all have our little tricks,” the stranger with the deliciously broad shoulders replied, before opening out his hand and calling his drink down the bar and to his hand, with what could only be the force. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in a way he hoped conveyed he was less impressed than he actually was, and at the very least stopped his mouth dropping open in an impression of a fish. 

“You’re force sensitive?” Obi-Wan asked, reaching out with the force towards the other man, unable to stop the hitch in his breath as he was met with a blazing bright force signature. 

“You could say that,” the man replied. “What’s your name?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi... _ force _ , your presence. That’s… that’s not borderline, you must have had some training,” Obi-Wan said, the man smiled at him in a particularly infuriating way as he ran a finger around the rim of his glass. 

“Some. And a pretty name, Obi-Wan” he rolled Obi-Wan’s name around, Obi-Wan had never thought much of it himself, but he was now. “Don’t want the drink?” Big fingers wrapped around the stem of the cocktail glass he had offered Obi-Wan, who picked it up and took a sip without thinking.

“Mm, that’s nice,” Obi-Wan hummed as the sweet fruity taste hit his mouth, masking the alcohol nicely. 

“Yes it is,” the man replied, his on Obi-Wan’s mouth, flicking down to his throat when he swallowed, as Obi-Wan fought a blush. 

“So, you had some training? With the jedi?” Obi-Wan asked, fiddling with his glass to have something to do with his fingers, regretting it when his forefinger ended up covered in sugar. Not thinking much of it, he went to lick it off, making the other’s man’s words falter, his eyes darken. 

“With the - what are you doing?”

“Sorry, sugar,” Obi-Wan tried to explain, but it sounded like a flirtation even to his own ears. Which it wasn't. Probably. 

“Minx,” the man’s voice rumbled, and jedi masters did not shiver, but it was a near thing. 

“Um, so, with the jedi, was that what you were going to say?”

“For a time, yes I was with the jedi,” he agreed, clearly more interested in Obi-Wan’s hands than the questions about himself, his eyes tracking the way Obi-Wan stroked his fingers tips up and down the stem of his glass, stopping, slightly mortified, when he realised what he was doing. 

“Why did you leave?” Obi-Wan asked, scarcely able to imagine someone with such a force presence not being fought over by jedi masters. 

“Can’t you tell, by now?” He smiled again, hand somehow having landed on Obi-Wan’s knee, but not nearly as heavy as his gaze.

“Uh - ” Obi-Wan started, no idea how to respond, but saved from having to do so as the force alerted him to the one they were hunting approaching him from behind, gun drawn. In one swift movement, Obi-Wan lit his saber and separated the gun - and her hand - from her body. Anakin appeared a second too late, and huffed and what he probably perceived as Obi-Wan stealing the glory or not giving him a chance, or something equally un-jedi-like; padawans were exhausting. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something to Anakin, about how they should take her outside, question her for information, when a large hand trailed down his back. “That was exceptional,” he murmured, managing to make as banal a word as ‘exceptional’ sound infuriatingly dirty. “Shame about that code,” he added, directly into Obi-Wan’s ear and knowing  _ exactly  _ what he was doing as his hand dropped lower, too low to be just friendly. “Watching that gave me all kinds of ideas.”

Obi-Wan took it back, this man wasn’t agreeable at all, he was a nightmare. Or something. He still sat back down when the man steered him there. 

“Master,” Anakin protested, having half-hauled up the not quite-dead-would-be-assassin. “We’re not done here.”

“Um,” Obi-Wan looked at the woman, trying to formulate thought as the man’s large hand sat on the small of his back. Well, it  _ had _ been on the small of his back, most of it was now resting casually against Obi-Wan’s ass. “I’m sure you can handle this, padawan. You’ve been asking for more responsibility.”

“Master!” Anakin sounded outraged, but Obi-Wan ignored him in favour of the hand that had migrated from his ass to his thigh.  _ High _ on his thigh. Distractingly so. Anakin apparently noticed his preoccupation and dragged the assassin outside while grumbling, to deal with on his own. 

“You look far too young to be a master,” the man flattered him, voice low to force Obi-Wan to tilt into his space to hear; and what did it say about Obi-Wan that he did just that?

“Special circumstances,” Obi-Wan said, wondering why his voice sounded like  _ that _ , and then being distracted by the big hand that climbed further up his leg.

“I didn’t know the council allowed for special circumstances,” the man muttered, and a thought that he was too distracted to catch floated through Obi-Wan’s mind, suddenly feeling as though he should know who this man was. “Didn’t know they knew how to make exceptions to their precious rules.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” Obi-Wan managed to say, breath hitching as the man’s thumb started rubbing circles on the inside of Obi-Wan’s thigh. Obscenely high, on the inside of his thigh. If his hand had been on his other thigh, he wouldn’t be touching Obi-Wan’s  _ leg _ . 

“Do you think this counts as extenuating circumstances?” He murmured, leaning in and kissing Obi-Wan’s neck lightly, and a lightbulb went on in Obi-Wan’s head. 

“Oh shit. You’re Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan paused, but his hand found its way to the man’s -  _ Qui-Gon fucking Jinn’s _ \- chest in a not uninviting way. 

“Heard of me have you?” 

“Heard of you? You’re infamous.”

“I dread to think what for.”

“You stormed out of the order! No one does that! I heard you almost hit master Windu on the head with your lightsaber when you threw it at him while yelling ‘fuck the code’.”

“I’ve always regretted missing.”

“There were bets you know, on whether you’d go dark.”

“Gambling? For shame,” Qui-Gon chided, with no intent but full of heat, his breath hot against Obi-Wan’s neck.

“Turns out you’re just a hedonist,” Obi-Wan attempted to scold, but the effect was somewhat lost when his breath hitched as Qui-Gon’s teeth grazed his skin.

“Well, I’m not  _ just _ a hedonist.”

“Then why storm out?” Obi-Wan asked, wondering at what point  _ he _ was breaking the code, and if it was soon, or ten steps ago.

“Why make love a forbidden thing?”

“It makes us weaker, susceptible to the dark side.”

“Hmm, do you feel weak, right now.”

“This isn’t love,” Obi-Wan scoffed, doing nothing to deter the way Qui-Gon had entered his space, was dragging his lips along Obi-Wan’s neck, his beard prickingly at Obi-Wan’s skin. In fact, the hand that had unwittingly wrapped itself in Qui-Gon’s clothes and held tight was probably doing the opposite. 

“Oh, perhaps it isn’t forbidden then?”

“You know full well it is. How can you have left just for this.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never known  _ this _ ,” Qui-Gon murmured, finally claiming Obi-Wan's lips, beards tangling. Obi-Wan thought he had been kissed before. He  _ thought _ he had. But whatever it was Qui-Gon was doing was to those other kisses what a pond was to a crashing sea. 

Qui-Gon’s big hands were on either one of Obi-Wan’s cheeks, holding his face as he plundered Obi-Wan’s mouth, biting at his lips, sucking at his tongue, learning Obi-Wan’s mouth as if there was nothing else he would rather be doing. And perhaps there wasn’t, which was a heady thought.

Qui-Gon laughed, a sound that vibrated out from his chest and through Obi-Wan’s hand, still pressed against him, when Obi-Wan chased his lips without thought as the older man tried to pull away. “There,” Qui-Gon breathed, sounding as breathless as Obi-Wan felt, ducking forward to steal one more chaste kiss. “Understand better now?” 

“Uh,” was Obi-Wan’s eloquent reply, but he was saved from having to answer - saved from the treacherous  _ yes _ ready to slip free, but Anakin reappearing at a run.

“She died. A bounty hunter killed her,” Anakin said, too loudly, skittering back over to the bar. Qui-Gon’s hand dropped back down and tightened on Obi-Wan’s leg, as if worried he might move. Anakin’s eyes narrowed, no doubt at Obi-Wan’s reddened lips and dazed expression - not to mention the hand high on his leg. 

“How careless of your padawan,” Qui-Gon teased, making Obi-Wan bite his lip to suppress a laugh.

“Hey!” Anakin’s let out an undignified  squawk . “What have you done to master Kenobi?” He rounded on Qui-Gon. 

“Nothing,” Obi-Wan cut in, a little offended that Anakin would think that anyone would be able to do anything to him so easily.

“You’re acting strangely,” Anakin eyes the hand on Obi-Wan’s leg like it was some kind of  foreign  parasite, Qui-Gon - because he was clearly a bastard - slipped his thumb back down to the inside of Obi-Wan’s leg, making Anakin’s eyebrows climb.

“Special circumstances, perhaps?” He teased and Obi-Wan shook himself, and pushed his hand. Not off him, mind you, just down to his knee, which seemed respectable, and acceptable. 

“What?” Anakin said, lacking any kind of context to understand Qui-Gon’s meaning. 

“Stop that,” Obi-Wan chided, unsure which one of them he was actually speaking to, only for Qui-Gon to lean back in and return his early attention to Obi-Wan’s neck. There was a moment where it felt so very  _ nice _ that Obi-Wan let his eyes close and forgot it was something he shouldn’t be allowing (and he was, most definitely allowing it).

“Master!” Thus ended the moment, and Obi-Wan was quickly knocked out of whatever feeling he was experiencing and pushed a chuckling Qui-Gon Jinn off of him. At least somewhat. 

However then Anakin reached for his saber, with wide eyes fixed on Qui-Gon, apparently convinced his master was in some kind of distress. And he was, though not the kind that could be fixed with a lightsaber. 

“Anakin stop,” Obi-Wan said, and his padawan at least paused -  _ progress _ \- and didn’t light his saber, a saber which then promptly whizzed out of his hand and into Qui-Gon’s. 

“Hey!” Anakin shouted again. “Give it back!” Obi-Wan only just managed to stop himself from burying his head in his hands in despair.

“You know, you could hurt someone with this,” Qui-Gon said dryly. 

“Master he can use the force!”

“Yes I know Anakin.”

“Did he use force suggestions on you?” He asked, perfectly scandalised. Obi-Wan did at that point, bury his face in his hands. 

“No, padawan,” Obi-Wan groaned, looking through his fingers only to be greeted by the ridiculous sight of Anakin swiping for his lightsaber and Qui-Gon  _ holding it above his head so that Anakin couldn’t reach _ . “Please stop, both of you.” If anything, he was disgruntled Qui-Gon’s hand had finally left his thigh. Instead of paying any attention to him, Qui-Gon lit the blade and inspected it. 

“I took this off you very easily, you should take better care or you’ll lose it,” Qui-Gon said, turning the blade off, but not before a few patrons had decided that this club wasn’t the place to be tonight and the bartender was staring them daggers. 

“What would you know about it,” Anakin huffed, crossing his arms and failing to seem at all patient or serene. Obi-Wan sighed. 

“Qui-Gon this is my apprentice Anakin Skywalker, Anakin this is disgraced jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn, he is no longer with the order.”

“I wasn’t disgraced.”

“Of course you were,” Obi-Wan snorted.

“I left of my own volition!” Qui-Gon protested.

“Still. Was pretty disgraceful. And I still don’t believe you left the order because you like, well, kissing!”

“Well, not just kissing,” Qui-Gon winked, and Obi-Wan felt himself getting flustered at the way he raked his eyes down Obi-Wan’s body in deliberate suggestion, so Obi-Wan mouthed off to try and hide his...consideration.

“Perhaps, or there was that one rumour that you just weren’t very good. Better to leave before you’re pushed, and all that.”

“Imp,” Qui-Gon growled, crowding up into Obi-Wan’s space and making him run hot and cold all at once. He was beginning to struggle to remember what was so kriffing important about the code anyway. “I am  _ very _ good.”

“Prove it,” Obi-Wan said before the smarter part of his brain had any say in the matter, he knew how it sounded, he knew the response it would illicit. 

“Oh you are full of surprises,” Qui-Gon smiled, moving away from Obi-Wan, clearing what had once been the dance floor with his sheer presence, and relighting the saber. “Come on then, I promise to go easy on you.”

“I don’t need you to ‘go easy on me’,” Obi-Wan protested, lighting his saber with a flourish, annoyed when Qui-Gon only gave him a mockingly impressed little bow. 

“Master!” Anakin protested, Obi-Wan ignored him. 

Obi-Wan didn’t for a second pause to wonder how this reflected on the order. It was liberating. Qui-Gon baiting him from across the dancefloor - and into more than a spar, and they both knew it. 

They went slow at first, scoping out each other’s skill and preferred moves, Obi-Wan’s speed and agility earning him compliments that he started craving far too quickly, Qui-Gon’s sheer power and strength leaving Obi-Wan hot under the collar from more than just the work out. 

“Need a rest?”

“You wish,” Obi-Wan replied, shocked to find himself smiling, feeling better than he had in years, despite Qui-Gon’s infuriating arrogance as he easily deflected another of Obi-Wan’s attacks.

“Are you sure? You’re a jedi master and I’m out of practice, yet you can’t get through my defences, I figured it must be fatigue,” Qui-Gon teased, making Obi-Wan’s blood boil, because he knew,  _ knew _ , that despite it all Qui-Gon was holding back.

“I’ll show you fatigue,” Obi-Wan muttered even though it didn’t make any sense at all, and launched himself at Qui-Gon with a flurry of blows, letting the force carry his movements with whirs and spins that Yoda would frown at him for, but you know what, the little green gremlin  _ wasn’t here _ , and he wanted to show off a little. A grinned a feral smile as he backed Qui-Gon across the room - the room which had, in the last few minutes, almost completely emptied, everyone who was left was taking photos. He’d worry about that later. Obi-Wan shouted with victory as he got Qui-Gon backed against a wall, glowing blue near his neck. 

Head filling with victory - he had just beaten the great Qui-Gon Jinn combat, out of practice or not, that was a boastable feat (if jedi were allowed to boast) - Obi-Wan grinned, panting and sweatier than he would like to admit, and absolutely pulsing with the force. He went to declare his win, but was cut off by Qui-Gon lurching forward, neck coming dangerously close to Obi-Wan’s saber as he claimed Obi-Wan’s mouth in a dominating kiss.

Obi-Wan lost himself to it, submitting easily as Qui-Gon’s tongue pressed into his mouth, closing his eyes into the sensations of it, only to quickly have his saber plucked from his hands, switched off and discarded. 

“Ahh, perhaps that is why it is forbidden,” Qui-Gon teased, circling around Obi-Wan again, ready for another round of sparring. 

“You are so frustrating!” Obi-Wan shouted, narrowly resisting the urge to stamp his foot. 

“Do you yield?” 

“You wish,” Obi-Wan muttered, taking a second to center himself in the force before dashing forward, ducking and weaving Qui-Gon’s strikes with the grace he was known for, spinning into Qui-Gon’s chest, taking hold of his wrist and disarming him neatly as well before dancing back away across the room with a triumphant smirk. 

“I always excelled at hand-to-hand combat,” Qui-Gon said, large body falling into perfect form, and Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, knowing he had been much better off when they’d both had sabers. 

“We’ll see,” Obi-Wan said, dodging out of the way as Qui-Gon rushed him. 

He grinned as Qui-Gon turned back to him, and wondered, absently, when the last time he’d had this much fun was, he felt like the force was coursing through his every atom, and there was nothing dark about it. He could tell that Qui-Gon was having fun too, and there was something addictive about that too. 

They sparred playfully, grabbing, dodging and wrestling rather than throwing punches; Qui-Gon expert at catching Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan long practiced at wiggling away. He was breathing hard, wondering if there was a single place on his body that Qui-Gon hadn’t had his big hands around, before thinking with a shiver;  _ just a couple _ . With sweat gathering on his brow, Qui-gon was even more magnificent than before, and every time he grabbed Obi-Wan he was overwhelmed for a moment with just how much  _ bigger _ Qui-Gon was than him, before slipping through his fingers again, watching as Qui-gon grew frustrated. 

Eventually the inevitable happened, and Qui-Gon swiped his legs out from under him, Obi-Wan landing with an  _ oof _ to the floor, Qui-Gon’s quickly dropping to all fours over him, caging him against the dancefloor. 

“This floor is probably filthy,” Obi-Wan said even as his knee came up instinctually, bracketing Qui-Gon’s hips in the space he didn’t even realise he’d made for him. 

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” Qui-Gon murmured, ducking down and dragging kisses against Obi-Wan’s lips, each one sending a thrill down his spine. 

“It’s the safest thing to think about right now,” Obi-Wan replied, hands trailing down the buttons on Qui-Gon’s shirt, but not undoing any.

“Want to live dangerously?” Qui-gon asked, with a line that should have been corny and absurd, but just made Obi-Wan shiver and hesitantly, Qui-gon swallowing his whine when he dropped his hand to Obi-Wan’s groin, removing any chance that the other man hadn’t noticed how hard he was in his pants. Not that he particularly wanted Qui-Gon to not notice. 

“Master!” Another undignified  squawk that got drowned out immediately by the bartender.

“Jedi business or not, I’m going to need you to get the fuck out of my nightclub now,” the gruff voice of the bar tender interrupted them, reminding Obi-Wan that not only was he breaking the code by even thinking about what he was thinking about. 

“Want to come with me?” Qui-Gon asked, nipping at Obi-Wan’s ear as he hauled them both off the grimey floor. 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admitted, plastered to Qui-Gon’s side, burying his head in Qui-Gon’s chest to hide his embarrassment. 

“Master!” Louder this time, Obi-Wan was beginning to wonder if he’d ever taught Ani any other words. 

“Look Anakin, I’m sorry but there’s something I need to do,” Obi-Wan lied entirely transparently. “Why don’t you go back to the temple and relax.

“But the code - ” Ani protested, Obi-Wan was pleased to hear some different words out of him.

“You know, you’re wound really tight kid. Don’t go back to the temple, go out and enjoy yourself, there’s more to life,” Qui-Gon said, tossing Anakin a roll of credits and what looked suspiciously like a  _ joint _ , but Obi-Wan was unable to confirm from his position tucked into Qui-gon’s massive chest.

“Obi-Wan…?” Anakin trailed off, unsure, as if he thought this might be a quest. 

“Make good choices,” Obi-Wan muttered, still pressing against Qui-Gon, as much to hide the way he was tenting his pants from the room as it was a desire not to lose contact. 

“No, make bad ones,” Qui-Gon grinned, shoving Anakin by the shoulder. Obi-Wan was glad to hear a laugh startle out of Anakin, it had been too long. With Anakin retreating out of the club, Qui-Gon returned Obi-Wan with his full, undivided attention. 

“As for you,” he growled, manhandling Obi-Wan out of the door, and turning quickly into a shadowy alley instead of into an aircab, as Obi-Wan had expected. “I don’t think I can wait to get you home.”

“No wonder you weren’t cut out to be a jedi if you’re this impatient,” Obi-Wan grumbled, but there was an undeniable smile in his voice as he let himself be moved. “Out here, in the open?” Obi-Wan bit his lip, unsure all of a sudden. 

“No one can see us,” Qui-Gon reassured, waiting for Obi-Wan to nod before hs starting tugging at his clothes with more intent. “Don’t worry little one, I just want to take the edge off, I’ll spread you out properly later.”

“Little one?” Obi-Wan screwed his nose up slightly even as he tugged at Qui-Gon’s shirt.

“Well, compared to me,” Qui-Gon kissed his cheek, nuzzling him there. “And you are very sweet, and new at this.”

“Now look here Qui-Gon Jinn, I might not be as experienced as you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want, and it doesn’t mean that I’m some sort of blushing teenager and you certainly will not be treating me as one to fulfil a personal fantasy of yours. This is going to go exactly how  _ I _ ’ve always imagined it going.”

“All right, I shouldn't have assumed. I’m more than happy for you to be in charge,” Qui-Gon smiled, grip loosening, looking entirely too charmed. It occurred to Obi-Wan in that moment that Qui-Gon Jinn would do anything he asked of him, and they’d met an hour ago. “You’ve imagined it?”

“I read,” Obi-Wan ruffled, pulling Qui-Gon back into him. “It’s given me some ideas.”

“What do you want then?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“In a dirty alley.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, more sure about this than he had been at his knighting. 

“Might be a bit difficult,” Qui-Gon said, face buried in Obi-Wan’s neck again, and he was beginning to worry about what state it would be in come morning. 

“You asked me what I wanted,” Obi-Wan huffed and Qui-Gon chuckled lowly. 

“I did, I should have known you’d be ambitious,” he teased, letting Obi-Wan reach for his pants and get them undone. Obi-Wan bit his lip as he let his hand slip inside Qui-gon’s underwear. 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Obi-Wan said, startled and looking down as his hand struggled to get around the girth. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Obi-Wan bitched, reaching out as Qui-Gon laughed and pulling out his cock so that he could see it, eyes going wide and resisting the strangest urge to drop directly to his knees. It was big, ridiculously so

“I did tell you it would be difficult,” Qui-Gon teased him again, a if this whole encounter wasn’t turning out to be a giant tease.

“That’s not difficult, it’s impossible,” Obi-Wan muttered, his hand just able to encircle Qui-Gon’s fat cock, stroking him cautiously, breath hitching as Qui-Gon grew ever so slightly bigger in his hand, as he reached his full hardness. 

“I’m sure you’re an overachiever,” Qui-Gon kissed his lips gently. “But we don’t have to.”

“No! I want to,” Obi-Wan protested, his hesitation very much in the why not if column. “I just...I want you now but…” he trailed off, his cock throbbing as Qui-Gon thrust his hips into Obi-Wan’s hand in a languid rhythm. 

“There are other things we can do,” Qui-Gon assured, Obi-Wan feeling lightheaded as Qui-Gon pushed his trousers down just enough to bare his cock and ass, blushing into the darkness of the alley. “I can use my mouth, for example,” Qui-Gon murmured, Obi-Wan suppressing a moan as aa finger toyed idly with his hole. He had played with himself plenty of times, long stints in the ‘fresher with his own fingers buried inside himself had taught him exactly what he liked, but this was the first time someone else had had their hand there, it was like the sensation was magnified tenfold, making Obi-Wan’s concentration shaky. 

“No, I mean, I do want that… _ ah, _ ” his words broke off as Qui-Gon’s large hand engulfed his cock and started stroking him, another magnified sensation that had obi-Wan wondering if he’s been nicked by an electrical cable, unable to stop the way his hips rolled into the touch. 

“But?” Qui-Gon pressed when he trailed off, running his thumb over the head of Obi-Wan’s cock and making his eyes roll, panting for a few moments before regaining his train of thought.

“I read something that I liked once, I want you to fuck between my thighs,” Obi-Wan said, gasping when Qui-Gon’s teeth bit down on his neck with a groan. 

“Your wish is my command,” Qui-Gon murmured, starting to manhandle Obi-Wan before he stopped him. 

“Wait,” Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon did as he was asked, watching with rapt attention as Obi-Wan licked his hand until it was wet and wrapping it around Qui-Gon’s fat cock, getting it slick with his spit, grinning as Qui-Gon groaned and fucking into his hand. “Be patient.”

“Bossy,” Qui-Gon grumbled, though it sounded fond.

“Well, I am a jedi master,” Obi-Wan laughed, surprised that he could, feeling light and free in a moment he’d always imagined would be solemn and secret - not that he had ever thought it would be a reality. “Here,” Obi-Wan said, turning to brace himself against the wall, reaching back to guide Qui-Gon’s thick cock between his thighs. 

“Force you feel good like this,” Qui-Gon growled, crowding up against Obi-Wan’s back as he pushed his cock through the tight channel of his legs, Obi-Wan moaning at the sensation as Qui-Gon’s cock dragged against his balls and premium, the hot feeling of Qui-Gon’s hips against his ass. 

“Stroke my cock,” Obi-Wan ordered, dragging one of the hands that was exploring his chest down to his already straining cock, feeling assaulted by so many new sensations. 

“Demanding,” Qui-Gon rumbled, wrapping a tight hand around Obi-Wan and stroking him in time with the rut of his hips. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, press your thumb under the head, I really -  _ oh _ , yeah, just like that. Fuck, please. Go faster,” Obi-Wan directed, as coherently as he could as Qui-Gon started to build up his pace, losing words around moans and gasps. 

“You’re already better than anyone else I’ve had,” Qui-Gon growled slamming into Obi-Wan harder, one hand on his cock, the other wrapped around his chest to hold him tight against Qui-Gon. 

“Fuck, yes, harder,” Obi-Wan moaned, rocking back into Qui-Gon, his body vibrating. 

“Fuck,” Qui-Gon growled, a second later Obi-Wan feeling Qui-Gon’s overhwmeling force presence press against his, like he was reaching inside, laying claim to parts of Obi-Wan that he couldn’t even see.

“Play with my nipples,” Obi-Wan moaned, rough fingers tugging at him just moments later. “Harder,” he whined, and Qui-Gon growled, sucking in marks on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, robes pushed to the side, as he pulled more roughly at the sensitive buds. 

“You’ve no idea what you do to me,” Qui-Gon rumbled, hips snapping against Obi-Wan’s ass with such force he was scraping his hands against the rough brick of the wall to stop himself being forced forward into it. 

“I want you inside me.”

“Next time,” Qui-Gon promised and Obi-Wan wasn’t even able to think about what next time would mean for him, too overwhelmed as Qui-Gon pulled back far enough for his fat cockhead to catch on Obi-Wan’s tight hole before slipping forward again in a delicious tease. The thought of that cock sinking into him enough to have Obi-Wan writhing in Qui-Gon’s arms, squeezing his thighs together more tightly. “I’ll spend hours opening you up, getting you ready to take my cock. Might take all day, I’ll spread you on my fingers, on my tongue, make you come again and again until you’re loose and pliant and can finally take all of me. Do you want that?” 

“Ah,  _ fuck _ , kiss me, right now,” Obi-Wan gasped, turning his head to the side to reach, relieved when Qui-Gon did as asked again, sealing their lips together as well as he could over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Qui-Gon swallowed his moans, fucking between Obi-Wan’s legs faster as he stripped his cock, always thumbing at the head like Obi-Wan had asked, squeezing on the upstroke, until Obi-Wan was stuttering out a gasp and painting the wall. “Keep going,” Obi-Wan panted, keeping his thighs tight together as the rest of him tried to tremble out of his skin. 

Qui-Gon’s rough hands enveloped his hips, holding tight enough to leave bruises and fucking Obi-Wan’s thighs hard as he fought to keep himself from turning to jelly, Obi-Wan gasping when he felt Qui-Gon’s cock pulse between his legs, painting the inside of his thighs and making him wet. Qui-Gon fucked him through each shake of his own orgasm, letting his cock drop away from his thighs when the final beads of come had rubbed between them. 

Qui-Gon kissed him deeply, pulling his shirt back around him to stave off the cold and using a less vital piece of clothing to clean between his legs as gently as he could, the skin hypersensitive to Qui-Gon’s touch, making him list into the older man, even as his mind began to race. 

He barely knew this man, could he really throw away everything he’d worked his whole life for? So what if he thought the council and code were archaic and too rigid, he still got to help people? So what if he felt like all those rules left a gaping part of his life empty, he’d saved a planet from civil war the month before. And so what if he felt like the gaping maw of loneliness was going to swallow him up some days, provoked by the simple acts of love he saw from strangers holding hands, kissing chastely, being held close. Surely it was a small price to pay to be a jedi.

“I can hear you thinking,” Qui-Gon murmured, drawing Obi-Wan into an embrace and stroking a hand down his back soothingly. 

“I should get back to the temple.”

“You can, if that’s what you want. I’m not so sure about should.”

“What do you mean?”

“You burn so bright, Obi-Wan, I would hate to see you dulled. And selfishly, I know that if you go back now, i will never see you again, will I?” Qui-Gon said, a finger tilting up Obi-Wan’s jaw, and he let himself be kissed chastely. 

“It’s where I belong.”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“Yes, perhaps. But I’m not convinced.”

“I’ve spent my whole life there.”

“Yes, so had I, at your age.”

“I feel lost,” Obi-Wan admitted, easy to do so held against Qui-Gon, not having to look at anything. 

“You are at a crossroads, Obi-Wan. You can go back to the temple, pretend like none of this ever happened, and miss it every day. Or you can come with me, and I can take you back to my home, and we can work on getting you stretched and loose enough for what you really wanted from me tonight, and you can live a real life,” Qui-Gon said, casually, as if it was a simple question, as if he wasn’t asking Obi-Wan to change his entire life just for him. 

If he went with Qui-gon, then that was it, there would be no returning to the temple, he would be a jedi no longer. What would he even  _ do _ if he wasn’t a jedi. And anyone who said the words  _ AgriCorps _ anywhere near him was going to regret it. What did Qui-Gon even do?

“What happens in the morning?” Obi-Wan asked, hating the vulnerability he heard in his voice, hating it a little less when Qui-Gon smiled at him softly. 

“In the morning I make you breakfast. I already know why the force led me to this nightclub on this particular day. But you’re going to have to really let go of that code if you want to find out too. In the morning, if you’ll let me, I’m going to start getting  _ attached _ to you,” Qui-Gon teased, running his fingers through Obi-Wan’s mussed up hair. “What do you say to that?”

“Fuck the code,” Obi-Wan sighed, and let himself be drawn into Qui-Gon’s embrace. 

No matter how hard Qui-Gon begged him, Obi-Wan did not fling his lightsaber at Windu’s head when he turned it in, though with the lecture the other master saw fit to give him, Obi-Wan at least understood the compulsion. He did, however, have to dodge when he told Anakin he was leaving the order and his padawan threw  _ his _ lightsaber at  _ Obi-Wan’s _ head. 

After sitting through what he had foolishly - and with no small amount of genuine melancholy - thought would be the last tantrum of Anakin’s he ever had to sit through, he paused for a moment on Anakin’s repeated mantra of ‘you’re the only thing about being there that doesn’t suck’, and pointed out that Anakin could leave too. 

Turned out, Anakin was more suited to Qui-Gon’s method of teaching anyway, which involved far less katas and meditations, and far more slightly questionable substances and dating advice. Anakin took to it like a fish to water, and Obi-Wan got to enjoy Anakin’s tantrums, and Qui-Gon’s many  _ gifts _ , until the end of his days. 

**Author's Note:**

> ty for reading, i hope you enjoyed it, i'm not kidding about the size of that dick, I was given visuals earlier today


End file.
